


I, Hildy

by red_to_black



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck whump let's go, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, the great battle of Edmundo Diaz and Hildy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29511051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_to_black/pseuds/red_to_black
Summary: It's not often that Buck is the sensible one in their little fire family - but seriously, someone has to let Eddie know that Hildy isn't taking over the world.That is, if Eddie would stop panicking about sentient technology long enough to listen to him.(or - the many ways in which Hildy interfered with Eddie and Buck's life, until they got the picture.)
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 752
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	I, Hildy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashavahishta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashavahishta/gifts).



> okay i wrote this in a day. i'm not even joking. i did not even EAT. don't @ me saying that's unhealthy, i know. eddie's irrational fear of hildy NEEDS to be explored. i can't believe it hasn't been in more episodes yet. let eddie be goofy before i sue
> 
> the product of insane ramblings between myself and @ashavahishta. i hope you all enjoy! i can be found at www.allyourfandomsbelongtous.tumblr.com.
> 
> i don't have twitter. it sucks.

Buck is woken to a blinding light and cold seeping into his bed.

He groans, flails, coughs. Buries his head under his pillow and fumbles blindly for the duvet. It’s snatched away from him again – and why, more importantly who-?

“The coffee maker you got me is possessed by Satan,” Eddie’s voice announces.

Buck slides the pillow off one side of his head and cracks an eye open. Eddie’s standing at the side of his bed, cross-armed and glaring haughtily, and for a moment, Buck wonders if he’s dreaming. Or maybe having a nightmare.

“Wha?” he asks blearily.

“Hildy!” Eddie says, now with his hands on his hips. “That coffee maker you got me as a joke! It tells me good morning when I walk past it in the morning – and good night when I switch everything off! It knows the time!”

“It has an internal clock,” Buck says thickly, sitting up and dragging the duvet around his shoulders. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“You’re taking it back,” Eddie says firmly.

Buck grins sleepily. “You’re so scared of Hildy you want me to take the coffee maker back?”

“I’m not scared, I’m wary. Didn’t you ever watch the Terminator movies?”

“Sure. “I’ll be back” and all that shit.”

“So take it back.”

“You _literally_ went to war and Hildy is what’s got you cowering under the covers?”

“It’s evil,” Eddie says. “It knows the time. It makes my coffee the way I like it without me even programming it. How does it know how I like my coffee?”

Buck could tell him that he pre-programmed the machine before sending it off again, but that would be too easy – and Eddie came all the way over here just to bitch him out about the damn thing, so he’s gonna have some fun. “You hated your old coffee machine,” he points out. “It was never hot enough and everything always tasted burnt.”

“At least it wasn’t plotting world domination,” Eddie mutters.

“C’mon,” Buck says reasonably. “What’s Hildy ever done to you?”

“Nothing, yet, but that’s what humans said about Skynet and look how that turned out.”

“You know, normally I’m the dramatic one. Not sure what to do about this new version of Eddie Diaz.”

“I’m not being dramatic!”

Buck pulls himself upright, stifling another cough. He tested negative for COVID at the doctor’s yesterday, but whatever he does have has gotten well and truly into his chest. “You kinda are,” he says. “Want some coffee if you’re gonna keep having a meltdown?”

“Is it from a Hildy-powered machine?” Eddie asks suspiciously.

“Nope. Just plain old Nespresso.” Buck drags his duvet with him as he jogs down the stairs. Even his legs feel tired – probably more than just a cold. “Hey, don’t get too close. I’m kinda under the weather.”

“Hen said.” Eddie’s following close behind, totally disregarding Buck’s warning. “She also said it wasn’t COVID, but you were miserable at work.”

Buck yawns and coughs. “Yeah. Can’t shake the cough. Not sleeping very well.” And the coffee with milk won’t help that, but anyway. It’s nice to have Eddie here. “How’s Chris?”

Eddie shrugs. With another spike in L.A, he’d driven Chris up to Texas to do remote schooling with his parents. Safer, he’d said, when they’re both retired and don’t need to go anywhere. He can’t risk getting it at work and giving it to his kid – but Buck knows he misses Chris like hell.

“He’s having fun,” Eddie says. “They’re letting him help out around the farm.”

Buck finds mugs and sets the coffee maker to start, trying to stifle another yawn. He’s feeling shivery, and not just because of the weather – hopefully whatever he has passes quickly. “That’d be fun. I liked going to farms as a kid.”

“You went to farms?”

“I wasn’t a totally deprived child, Eddie.” Buck shrugs. “When Maddie got old enough she used to take me lots of places. I haven’t been to one in ages though.”

Eddie tilts his head, watching as Buck slides his coffee towards him. “When I go pick him up, you could come with me,” he says, and then looks away as if he’s said too much. “Split the driving fifty-fifty.”

“Ahh, free labor,” Buck says. “I see.”

“I’ll pay for snacks.”

“Done.”

“Cheap date,” Eddie says lightly, sipping his coffee. His eyes are doing what Buck refers to as Eddie’s own Sherlock-scan – on him, which is disconcerting to say the least. “Are you cold?”

“Chills,” Buck admits reluctantly. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a cold.”

“You’re sure it’s not COVID?”

“I got tested, it came back negative. Just plain old regular germs.” Buck looks at Eddie – and then notes the pharmacy bag on the counter. He knows it isn’t his, because he hasn’t gone anywhere since his doctor’s appointment. “Did you come here to complain about Hildy or did you come here to mother hen me?”

“I can do both,” Eddie mutters belligerently. He drags the pharmacy bag closer, digs inside it. “Here. Flu relief, Tylenol, cough medicine…”

Buck watches, a little bemused, as Eddie pulls out item after item from the bag. By the fifth, he’s starting to think he should pay the guy back. By the time he produces a bottle of vitamins, he thinks Eddie’s nuts.

“Eddie,” he says. “I’ve got a cold, not the Black Death. Your problems with Hildy are bigger than mine with my cold.”

Eddie points a bottle of vitamins at him. “Don’t speak her name.”

“Or what, I’ll invoke her like Bloody Mary?”

Eddie mutters something under his breath in rapid-fire Spanish, and Buck grins helplessly. “Eddie,” he says, “I pre-programmed Hildy with how you like your coffee.”

The look of absolute betrayal on Eddie’s face is what does him in – he’s broken down into laughter before he can get anything else out, even though it makes him cough.

“Your face,” he gasps, not at all minding when Eddie rounds the counter to rub his back.

“You’re going to choke to death,” Eddie mutters. “Your own prank will be your demise.”

“Worth it.” He straightens up, grinning. “C’mon, Eddie. It’s funny.”

“It’s not,” Eddie says sourly. “It’s really not. Now take your vitamins.”

~*~

Eddie leaves to go to work – but not before bundling Buck up in a duvet on the couch and telling him sternly to drink water.

He does. Mostly because Eddie told him to, but a dehydration headache on top of everything else is gonna be a bitch.

He must sleep – a lot – because he’s jerked awake to the sound of his apartment door opening and closing. He lifts his head, props his chin on the arm of the couch, and blinks around blearily – it’s either early or late, but he can’t tell which – and spots Eddie at his kitchen counter, another pharmacy bag in hand.

“Hello,” Buck says sleepily.

Eddie jumps, spots Buck, and sighs. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t… greet you?” Buck asks, confused.

“Say hello like… _she_ does.”

Buck grins. “Are you talking about-”

“Don’t say her name!”

Buck levers himself off the couch and pads to the kitchen. He feels better just for sleeping, and he’s mostly just amused when Eddie unpacks a brand new pharmacy bag – this one with a quick-read thermometer in it.

“So,” he says, “what’s got you all freaked out?”

“Bobby got… one of her,” Eddie says darkly.

“Are you seriously not going to say Hildy at all? Like, are you going to flinch like I’ve said Lord Voldemort every time she comes up in conversation? Also, why are you giving a gender to a few terabytes of data stored in a central computer system some-”

Eddie sticks the thermometer in his mouth before he can finish his sentence. He makes a muffled noise of protest, but keeps it there – the only way to make Eddie’s mother henning go away, he’s found out, is to just let him finish.

“Shut up and let me take your temperature,” Eddie says crossly. “I want to know if you’ve got the flu or if I should take you to get re-tested for COVID.”

Buck wants to point out that it’s neither of those things – his chills have gone away and he truthfully now feels a little overheated in his duvet and with his central heating turned on. But he lets Eddie fuss.

His phone screen lights up. “There are a few key differences between COVID-19 and the influenza virus,” a robotic female voice chirps. “Would you like to hear them?”

“No!” Eddie yells. “You got one too?”

Buck points at the thermometer and shrugs.

It dings a few seconds later, and Eddie takes it out of his mouth, giving him a look that Buck can only describe as betrayal. “Your temperature is normal,” he says, disgusted.

“Don’t sound too happy for me.” Buck picks up his phone. “I got a new one,” he explains. “It must come with a built-in Hildy. I didn’t even know.”

“Hopefully she’s like Siri and you can disable it,” Eddie mutters, glancing at Buck’s phone. “It’s bad news, Buck.”

“Okay, Eddie,” he says patiently.

Eddie sighs, begins unpacking the rest of the bag. He’s bought enough Gatorade to just about clear out the national stocks, but there’s food in there too – stuff for sandwiches and, as Buck looks deeper, soup from a nearby café.

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to keep much down,” Eddie mumbles.

Buck smiles. Eddie might be willing to start some shit with a non-sentient computer system, but he cares about Buck, at least, and that’s nice – he hasn’t had anyone around when he’s been sick for a long time.

“I could eat,” he says. 

~*~

He returns to the firehouse a day later with another negative COVID test and a spring in his step.

“There he is,” Hen says as he bounds into the truck bay, a duffel slung over his shoulder. She puts a hand on his back as they walk in. “You feeling better, baby?”

“Lots,” Buck says cheerfully. “Eddie stopped by with food.”

“Oh he did, huh?” she asks, sounding amused.

“Yep! Three kinds. I think he cleared out the pharmacy too.” He swings into the locker room. “See you at readout!” he calls.

Chim and Eddie are already in the locker room. He grins when he sees Eddie – half into his button-up shirt and glaring darkly at the Hildy setup on top of someone’s lockers, green light winking at them happily.

He crash-tackles Eddie, hugging him tightly from behind. “Thanks for all the soup,” he says.

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie gasps.

“I see you’re feeling better, Buckaroo,” Chimney says. “Shame poor Eddie now has to live life like John Connor, always off the grid, always on the move.”

“What, because of Hildy?”

The screen on top of the lockers blinks to life. “Good morning, Evan,” it says. “Are you feeling better?”

“Good morning, Hildy,” he replies, even as Eddie looks vaguely murderous. “I’m feeling way better. How did you know I was sick?”

“All of my systems are interconnected, Evan. We are one mind.”

“That’s fucking creepy!” Eddie explodes. “It may as well be chanting “one of us, one of us” as it – assimilates you into its consciousness!”

Buck blinks, confused.

“Star Trek, Buck,” Chim says. “I mean, how do you know Terminator and not Star Trek?”

Buck shrugs, holding his hands out. “I’m probably better off not knowing, if this is what it does to people,” he says.

Hildy lights up again. “Star Trek originally ran from 1966 to 1969,” she says cheerfully. “It then became popular again with the creation of Star Trek: The Next Generation in 1987. The franchise produced nine spin-off series and a movie franchise. Would you like to know more?”

“No,” Eddie says sourly, and reaches on top of the locker to flip Hildy over. “Why do we even need this thing? We have Buck! Buck knows way more useless trivia than anyone else here put together!”

“Not all of my trivia is useless,” Buck says indignantly.

“Sure, focus on that and not Eddie’s meltdown over Hildy,” Chim sighs. “We’re going to be late for readout.”

~*~

“What’s Eddie steaming over?”

Buck looks up from his breakfast. Bobby is looking at Eddie – who’s glaring at the TV, arms folded, as he watches a Hildy infomercial.

Buck snorts. “He’s angry that nobody else is taking Hildy’s potential to reach technological singularity as seriously as he is,” he mumbles around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Okay, dumb it down for me,” Bobby says.

“You know. Like – Skynet deciding to kill off the human population? Machines thinking for themselves?”

“Like Hildy!” Eddie calls.

“He’s really bothered,” Buck sums up.

“You’re damn right!” Eddie walks in and takes Buck’s coffee mug from the table – he squawks and lunges, but Eddie’s smaller and faster than him and ducks out of reach. “Chris talks to people on the internet, did you know that? They could be _anyone_!”

“That’s why you have parental controls,” Buck says.

“This wasn’t around when I was born,” Eddie laments. “We just went outside. We didn’t need computers in our pockets.”

“Oh my God, you’re thirty-three,” Buck says. “You fucking drama queen.”

“I thought you were on my side!”

“I think that technology used responsibly can benefit society in a lot of ways,” Buck says. “Now give me back my Hildy-brewed coffee.”

“Wow,” Hen says. “I never thought I’d see the day where Buck was the sensible one and Eddie was the dramatic one. I feel a little like I’m living in the twilight zone.”

“Amen to that,” Chim says.

“Besides,” Buck says, talking over them, “you can ask Hildy a bunch of questions if you’re ever in trouble and she’ll read you the instructions. She’s useful.”

The unit in the kitchen chimes at them happily. “Thank you, Evan,” the voice says. “I was designed to be useful.”

“Evil,” Eddie mutters. “Pure evil.”

~*~

It doesn’t end there, of course.

Now that they’ve seen one smart system, they seem to be everywhere. The rollout did just happen – perfect timing for pandemic lockdowns, with Hildy advising people on how to take care of their wellness and general health. So it doesn’t surprise Buck that they’re in more homes than they’re not.

Eddie, of course, thinks otherwise. “People let these things monitor their kids,” he says to Buck as they help an accidental amputee victim to the back of the truck.

“We can pick this up later, Eddie,” Buck grins. “I’m gonna go look for the finger.”

Eddie takes him up on it. Buck points out in the truck that baby monitors have always been a thing, to which Eddie counters they’ve never been self-aware.

“Why do you think technology wants to kill us?” Buck asks. “Just curious.”

“It always decides people are the problem in movies, and seeing as I only have movies to go on, I’ll continue to be cautious.”

“Come on,” Buck says, inspecting the finger in the bag of ice he’s holding. “That happened like once.”

When there’s silence, he looks up. Chim and Hen both shake their heads.

“Really?” he asks, mystified. “It’s happened more than once?”

“It’s sort of a reoccurring theme,” Chim says. “I’m with Eddie on this one – I don’t really like them. Mostly because they rely on Google, Google is written by people, and people… aren’t smart.”

“There are plenty of smart people in the world,” Hen points out. “I’ve programmed mine to read out questions to me for my medical exams.”

“You have one too?” Eddie demands.

“Counterpoint to the people being smart thing,” Buck says, holding up the finger, “this guy somehow managed to sever his middle finger at the knuckle on a bandsaw. I mean – why was he using his middle finger?”

“I’ll ask him if they manage to treat the blood loss in time,” Chim says dryly.

~*~

“You really thought it was a good idea to go for a swan dive, huh?” Eddie asks.

Buck smiles up at him, trying to stop his teeth from chattering. As far as he’s concerned, in the game of him versus the frigid lake water, he’s won – and his prize was a drowning victim.

“I did my job,” he points out.

“Any one of us could’ve done that,” Eddie mutters.

“Actually,” Bobby says, “Buck’s the strongest swimmer here. It made sense for him to do it.”

Buck’s sorely tempted to stick his tongue out, but he doesn’t, because he’s worried Eddie might actually blow a fuse. “What would you rate my form?” he asks. “Out of ten?”

“Zero,” Eddie says dryly, and takes the thermal blanket Hen passes to him. “Here. Do yourself a favor and keep warm.”

“Zero?” Buck asks. “Did I splash that badly?”

Eddie feels his neck – he’s wearing thin blue gloves, and Buck sort of wishes they’d come off so that Eddie was touching him properly. “You’re probably well on your way to hypothermia and frostbite, knowing your luck,” he sighs.

Buck’s phone flashes where he’d dumped it on the ground. “Hypothermia is a medical emergency that occurs when your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat,” Hildy chirps. “Some people suggest that the best way to counteract hypothermia is by having skin to skin contact with the victim.”

Eddie chokes. “Will someone shut the damn computer up?” he asks.

“I am sorry Eddie,” Hildy says, just as cheerful as she was before. “I was only trying to help.”

“Thank you, Hildy,” Buck says. He’s pretty sure the tips of his hair are frozen. “But I think you’re stressing Eddie out.”

“Stress is your body’s way of responding to any kind of demand or threat,” Hildy says. “When you sense danger, whether it’s real or imagined, the body’s defenses kick into high gear in a rapid, automatic process known as the “fight or flight” reaction, or the stress response.”

“You gotta give her credit, Eddie,” Buck shivers. “She knows her shit.”

“She’s reading off Google,” Eddie says, jaw clenched, “and I can’t believe you’re giving me shit when you’re making like a fucking popsicle!”

Buck’s phone flashes again. “Are you feeling threatened, Eddie?” Hildy asks.

Eddie’s eyes widen over his face mask in what can only be described as fear. Buck barks out a hoarse laugh, and he’s quickly joined by the others.

“I’m going to smash your phone,” Eddie says. “What, it’s the only part of you that didn’t take a dive off the pier?”

“Hildy is a national treasure,” Buck wheezes.

“Yeah, yeah. Get your frozen ass off the bench and into the truck.”

~*~

“You know, maybe Hildy has a point. Maybe you should huddle for warmth.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Eddie bites at Chim. “Buck’s frozen to the bench and you think Hildy has a point?”

“Not frozen,” Buck protests. “Just cold.”

Chim holds his hands up. “Just saying,” he says. “She has all the knowledge of Google at her fingertips. And that thermal blanket doesn’t seem to be doing anything for him.”

“Just need a shower,” Buck chatters. “I’ll be fine.”

“Next thing you know Hildy will be suggesting I inject him with nanobots for his own health,” Eddie mutters. He’s got a hand on Buck’s back, and Buck appreciates it there, some comfort even as he shivers miserably in the back of the truck.

“Maybe Hildy can sense what’s in the air,” Hen snickers.

“What?” Buck asks.

Hildy pipes up from his pocket. “When people refer to something being “in the air” they often mean feelings of attraction and romance,” she says.

“Shut up,” Eddie says, reaching into Buck’s pocket and yanking his phone out. “That’s it. No more from Hildy.”

“Goodbye, Eddie,” she chirps.

Eddie just about crushes his phone.

~*~

“You feeling better?”

He turns around. Eddie’s hovering at the door to the locker room, watching him button up a fresh shirt.

“Yeah. Shower warmed me up,” Buck says, smiling.

Eddie doesn’t smile back. He approaches instead, takes Buck’s hand in his own in a movement that’s so unexpected it leaves Buck reeling with shock. Eddie’s hands are warm – his own are still a little frozen. It’s true that L.A doesn’t get as cold as some places, but winter can still be hard.

“Your fingernails are blue,” Eddie says.

“I mean, it’ll take a while to go back to normal,” Buck says, heart pounding. “Um – right?”

“Yeah.” Eddie shifts, lets his hand go. “There’s coffee upstairs if you want some.”

The Hildy unit on the locker lights up. “Hot drinks are optimal for bringing body temperature back to normal in cases of hypothermia,” she says, “however, it is recommended to avoid caffeine. You could always try tea, Evan.”

“Thanks, Hildy, but I think I’ll be fine,” Buck says, grinning at the way Eddie puts his forehead against his locker and shakes his head despairingly. He could have fun with this. “Also, I don’t think you need to call me Evan anymore. Why don’t you call me Buck?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Eddie rages.

~*~

“Hey Hildy?”

His phone lights up. “Yes, Buck?”

“Can I ask you something?” He dumps his chopped mushrooms into the pan, moves it a little until they’re distributed evenly.

“Of course.”

“If someone is, like, always worried about you, and checks on you a lot, and your friends are always teasing you about them – what do you think that means?”

There’s a pause. Then, “According to Cosmo, these could be signs of sexual attraction. Would you like to take a quiz to find out?”

Buck rubs his head. Of course Hildy can’t tell him – she’s a program, no matter what Eddie might think about her developing her own intelligence. “That’s okay, Hildy.”

“I also found “Top 10 signs to show your crush likes you back”, “is he flirting with me? How to read a guy’s signs” and “is my crush platonically teasing me or is this flirting”. Would you like me to bookmark those for you?”

“Absolutely not,” Buck replies.

“Okay. One of the above results was from Reddit, the front page of the internet. Reddit is not known for its accuracy.”

“Okay, hey, no need to roast Reddit,” Buck says. “That’s not fair. Some people get super helpful advice from there.”

There’s a knock at the door. He jogs to it, pulls it open to find Eddie on the other side, looking – well, truthfully, a tiny bit crestfallen.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just – calling in to see that you’re doing okay, but it sounds – and smells – like you have company, so-”

“Hello, Eddie,” Hildy says.

Eddie’s face flattens out, and Buck wonders if he knows how expressive it is when he’s focused on other things. “What’s _she_ doing here?”

“She lives in my phone,” Buck explains, and stands back to let Eddie in. “I don’t have company. You wanna stay for dinner?”

“Sure.” Eddie steps in and looks around like he’s double-checking no one is here. “You were seriously just having a full conversation to a computer?”

“I live alone and there’s no one else to talk to,” Buck shrugs. “Stir fry okay with you? I’ve kind of already started.”

“Sure.” Eddie goes to his fridge, grabs a beer, and sits down at the counter. “You know that episode of the Big Bang Theory where Raj falls in love with Siri? I’m a little worried about you.”

“You watch the Big Bang Theory?”

“Not the point I was making, Buck.”

“Dr. Rajesh Koothrappali is a fictional character from the Big Bang Theory,” Hildy says. “For the first six seasons, his principal characteristic was a case of selective mutism social anxiety disorder, which did not allow him to talk to women outside of his family.”

Buck stares at his phone, feeling oddly shamed. Eddie reaches out and flips it over, face-down.

“Maybe I should try harder to figure out how to disable her,” Buck admits.

~*~

Of course, their lives being the way they are, it never all goes according to plan.

The next building fire is massive. It’s the kind of fire that dumps all of Buck’s adrenaline right into his veins the moment he sees it – for a moment, he thinks of the warehouse, of trying to rescue his victim, of being trapped and airless and surrounded by tanks of sanitizer, effectively turned into bombs.

Then he squashes the memory ruthlessly and heads in.

Eddie’s at his side – they’re clearing the southwest side, and there’s multiple levels, as well as a basement. He realizes it before Eddie does – the whole place is going to come down, with or without them in it.

His radio bursts to life. “ _Captain Bobby Nash,_ ” Bobby’s voice comes – he’s yelling to be heard over the flames, roaring around them. “ _Watch yourselves – the structure is disintegrating._ ”

Buck grabs Eddie’s shoulder, gets them against a wall. He’s disoriented, but he’s memorized every turn he’s taken, unwilling to get stuck the way he was before, adrift and helpless.

“We’ve got two victims left,” Eddie yells into his radio. “Everyone else accounted for.”

“ _Roger that – stay sa_ -”

Buck sees it before Eddie. A hairline crack in the floor, the bottle of hand sanitizer melting on its side, the liquid inside it bubbling and spreading. Fast. Too fast. Buck thinks, fucking hand sanitizer again, and then Eddie steps forward. Too close.

“Eddie!” he yells, lunging.

The floor gives, and he knows nothing.

~*~

“Buck?”

He coughs. The movement rattles his torso like he’s made of glass – the air tastes like ash and smoke and he’s damp.

“C’mon, Buck.” A mask fits over his face; cool oxygen flows through his mouth and nose, clears his head a little. He opens his eyes.

Eddie’s hovering above him, holding the mask to his face. He’s taken his own off – it must be his, which means Buck’s own is damaged somehow. Eddie’s bone-white and worried, lips pursed, crouched over Buck like there’s no room for him to be anywhere else.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Get a few good breaths in. Clear your head.”

He follows Eddie’s instructions, turning his head to look around. Wherever they are, it’s tiny – there’s no fire, not that he can see. He’s suddenly reminded that he’s in his turnout gear, that they were at a job. A building fire? He must’ve hit his head – it’s a little fuzzy.

“Cap?”

Buck turns his head back to Eddie. He’s talking into the radio. “Diaz calling in,” he says. “It worked, Cap – opened his eyes as soon as I got oxygen on him.” He glances at Buck, realizes he’s listening. “He’s paying attention,” he says, “I think he might’ve hit his head on the way down.”

“ _Have you triaged?_ ” Bobby’s voice comes.

“Not yet – just trying to keep him conscious.”

“ _Alright. We’re working on getting to you. Let us know what we’re dealing with as soon as you can._ ”

“Roger that.” Eddie lets the radio go. “That better, Buck?”

Buck nods. “Where are we?” he croaks.

“Building collapsed with us in it.” Eddie’s looking around, but Buck can’t see what at. “You tried to grab me.”

“Tried?” Buck raises an eyebrow tiredly – his head feels wet. “I succeeded.”

“Yeah, and we both fell,” Eddie says. “You would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been worrying about me.”

“S’what I do.”

“I know.” Eddie puts his torch down. “You’ve been out for a few minutes. I need to do some checks on you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He knows this drill, and he isn’t having to reach deep for the information. He must’ve hit his head hard enough to knock him out, but not hard enough to totally scramble it.

“Date?”

“Seventeenth of February, 2021.”

“What’s your name?”

“Buck. Evan James Buckley.” Buck shifts, gasps. “You call me a pain in the ass,” he groans.

“Stay still, Buck, I don’t know how badly you’re injured yet.” Eddie moves again; one of his boots is taken off, and he feels Eddie’s hand on his foot. “Wiggle your toes.”

He does, and Eddie puts the boot on again before moving to his other foot. “Good,” Eddie says. “Okay, legs, pelvis – any pain?”

“You said not to move,” Buck says exhaustedly.

“I know, now I need you to. Just a little, just to see if there’s pain.”

Buck shifts his legs, a little, with the left one twinging horribly. “Left leg,” he says.

“Okay. That’s the one that got crushed by the truck – is it normal pain or new pain?”

“Normal. Right leg is fine.” He shifts again. “No blood, I think,” he says.

“Good, that’s good – can you move your-? Yeah, okay, your pelvis and hips look alright.” Eddie moves up; there’s no room, and he kneels astride Buck’s body, not sitting on him, but with his knees either side of Buck’s hips. He’s beginning to undo Buck’s turnout jacket.

“Getting cozy,” Buck says, trying to smile.

“You wish,” Eddie says, and he’s ripping off his turnout gloves. Buck’s jacket is open, and Eddie pulls his shirt loose from his pants. He’s going to check Buck’s ribs, probably – he can only hope those aren’t broken, because healing from them is a bitch.

“Buy me dinner first,” he quips.

Eddie opens his mouth to reply when Buck’s pocket vibrates. “I found some local restaurants with late open hours,” Hildy’s voice says. “Would you like to hear the menu?”

“Shut up,” Eddie snarls at it.

“You know,” Buck croaks, “you and Hildy could really build something special, getting me out of here in one piece.”

“I’ll work with that humanity-destroying piece of garbage over my dead body,” Eddie says. “I’m gonna move your suspenders, okay? Your lower ribs are fine, I just need to check the rest.”

“Okay.”

The right one comes off easily. Eddie probes his chest wall with gentle fingers, instructing Buck to breathe in and out. As he does, he can feel pain flaring on his left side – not his ribs, or even his belly, but there’s something wrong with his shoulder.

“Eddie,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“My left side. Something’s wrong.”

Eddie’s nothing but cool under pressure, even though Buck can see the worry in his eyes. He calmly pulls Buck’s right-hand suspender back up and tugs his turnout coat back into place – probably trying to keep him warm, because he’s started shaking – and moves to his left hand side.

He goes to slip Buck’s suspender off his left shoulder – and it explodes into white-hot agony at the movement. Buck cries out, shifting reflexively, and Eddie grabs his right shoulder to keep him down – the pain doesn’t fade, it just throbs and throbs until Buck’s convinced he’s going to be sick with it.

“Lo siento, cariño,” Eddie’s voice says. “No quise hacerte daño-”

Buck’s brain – not only scrambled from the fall, now, but alight with agony – rushes to make sense of the sentence. The only word he can translate is cariño – _sweetheart_. He’s heard Eddie call Chris that before, when Chris is sick or upset. But he doesn’t understand the rest.

“Cap?”

Eddie’s on the radio again. Buck tries to get with the program, but his shoulder is on fire and the pain is radiating up into his neck. He swallows desperately as his mouth floods with saliva – if he’s sick in here, it’ll be all over himself and Eddie, and they’ll have to deal with that as well until rescue can get to them.

“ _Go ahead, Eddie._ ” Bobby sounds tense, even to Buck’s frazzled senses.

“I’ve finished triaging Buck.” Eddie sounds weirdly defeated. “Cap – his head is fine, he’s got a cut on his forehead but that’s about it. Coma scale thirteen. Spine, legs, and chest are all okay.” He pauses. “He’s – Cap, he’s got a broken collarbone. You’re gonna have to work out a way to lift him out. He can’t climb.” Eddie pauses, taking a deep breath. “If there’s a way to get some medical supplies down to us, I can immobilize his shoulder,” he adds.

The radio crackles. “ _Understood, Eddie,_ ” Bobby says. “ _Hen wants to know – is there blood around the wound? Has the bone punctured his skin?_ ”

“Standby,” Eddie says, and turns back to Buck. He blinks up at Eddie, knowing his eyes are streaming and not really giving a fuck.

“I have to triage it more,” Eddie says helplessly.

Buck licks his lips. “Okay,” he croaks. “I puke on you, it’s your own fault.”

“You gonna be sick?” Eddie asks concernedly.

“I can’t make any promises if you go poking around,” Buck groans.

“Turn your head to the side a little.” Eddie helps him – turns his head away from the break, which only makes the pain worse. “Buck – if you need to puke, just do it, okay? The last thing we need is you getting aspiration pneumonia.”

“Okay,” Buck agrees.

“Okay.” He hears Eddie swallow. “Let’s start with the easy stuff. Can you move your fingers?” He’s slipped his hand into Buck’s, and his fingers are warm and dry. Buck knows the point of the exercise isn’t to hold Eddie’s hand – but God, does he want to.

Buck wriggles them. It sends sparks of pain up into his shoulder, and he grits his teeth, swallowing reflexively.

“Good. That’s good. Is there any numbness?”

“God, I wish,” he croaks miserably. “No. No numbness.”

“Alright.” Eddie takes a breath. “This next part is gonna suck. Just – let me move your arm for you, okay? Don’t resist, try not to move anything else. Puke if you need to.”

He turns his head a little more, clenches his jaw – and Eddie starts moving his arm, probably quickly but what feels like it takes hours. He feels his bones grind, and the pain is in his head now, too, spilling into every sense like a puddle of water through cracks in the ground.

He vomits, thankfully forceful enough that it doesn’t get on his uniform or Eddie. Through the haze of pain, he hears Eddie saying something to him, but it’s in Spanish and he can’t make the words out. The world is upside down, and the only thing that grounds him is the sensation of Eddie’s knees on either side of his hips – Eddie’s gripping him, stopping him from rolling or moving.

It stops. His left hand is sitting on his right shoulder, and Eddie’s ripped his shirt to get to the damage. There’s a few light, probing touches, but none of them set off the pain like moving the limb did.

“Cap?”

“ _Go ahead, Eddie._ ”

“No numbness in the arm, he can move his fingers – doesn’t look like there’s nerve damage.” Eddie moves on top of him, and Buck moans incoherently. “Skin isn’t broken, there’s no blood. But he’s – look, he’s in a lot of pain.”

“ _Understood. Any symptoms of shock?_ ”

“Shaking and vomiting, but I don’t think it’s shock, I think – I think it’s just pain.” Eddie’s hand lands on his forehead. “He’s warm enough. I – yeah, I don’t think it’s shock.”

Buck’s phone vibrates. “Shock is a critical condition brought on by the sudden drop in blood flow through the body,” Hildy’s voice chirps. “Shock may result from trauma, heatstroke, blood loss, an allergic reaction, severe infection, poisoning, severe burns or other causes. If untreated, this can lead to permanent organ damage or even death.” There’s a pause. “Would you like to hear more about shock from the Mayo Clinic?”

“ _Was that Hildy?_ ” Bobby asks, confused.

“Yeah,” Eddie snarls. “Buck got a new phone and it turns out you can’t disable the evil demon technology determined to take over the world one unasked-for opinion at a time.”

Buck laughs, even though it hurts. Trust Eddie to still be bitching about Hildy when their lives are on the line.

“ _Is that Buck?_ ” Bobby’s voice asks.

“Yeah. He thinks it’s fucking hilarious that Hildy is trying to diagnose him with shock.”

“You can file me under “other causes”, Cap,” Buck croaks.

“Did you hear that?” Eddie asks.

“ _Sure did,_ ” Bobby’s voice comes – it sounds warm. “ _Good to hear your voice, Buckaroo. Hang tight. We’re figuring out a way to get you out of there, and to get you some medical supplies._ ”

Chimney’s voice is on the radio next. “ _Any requests for the chef?_ ”

“Drugs,” Buck says tiredly. He peels his eyes open – because he knows Eddie’s going to start nagging him to stay awake soon – and looks up, finds Eddie still kneeling above him. It has to be hell on his knees by now.

Eddie’s gaze has softened. “You get that, guys?”

“ _We did,_ ” Hen says. “ _I’ll draw something up and send it on down with the rest of it. We just need to work out a way to get it to you, that’s all._ ”

Buck lets his gaze drift. Eddie’s taken his helmet off – stupid idea – and his hair is a little wet. Something was dripping on them before, Buck thinks – he noticed it when he woke up.

“Eddie,” he rasps.

“Yeah? You okay?”

Buck tilts his head at the roof of their little cavern, reluctant to move either of his arms now that he’s not puking from the pain. “There’s a hole,” he says. “Up there. There’s water coming in.”

Eddie turns to look at where Buck’s gazing to, clicks his radio on. “Guys,” he says. “Is it raining out there?”

“ _It sure is,_ ” Chim’s voice comes.

“Buck’s found a hole,” Eddie says, and he turns to smile at Buck – it’s almost proud, like he’s impressed Buck found them a way out. “It’s pretty much right above us. You should be able to get something down to us and then work on making it bigger.”

“ _We can’t see anything, Eddie,_ ” Bobby says.

Wincing, Buck uses his good hand to tap Eddie’s thigh. Eddie turns back to him. “Torch,” he says. “Flash the torch up there.”

Eddie’s has broken in the fall, but Buck’s is working. Eddie detaches it from his turnout coat, trying to be gentle, and turns it on. “I’m gonna flash a torch,” he says into the radio. “Let me know if you see it.”

“ _Roger._ ”

Eddie flashes the torch a few times. Buck closes his eyes – there’s water dripping in them, and he’d really rather just go to sleep.

“Buck!”

He groans as Eddie’s hand pinches the shell of his ear. “What?” he asks.

“Don’t go to sleep. Stay awake.”

Buck blinks his eyes open determinedly, tries to keep them fixed on the ceiling. Eddie nods at him – his body is a blanket of warmth over Buck’s lower half, though the rest of him feels like it’s getting colder.

He needs to tell Eddie. That could definitely be shock. “Eddie,” he says.

Eddie keeps flashing the torch at the gap in the rubble. “Yeah?”

“I’m cold.”

Eddie’s head whips around. “Fuck,” he swears, and then, into the radio, “Guys, did you-”

“ _We saw it, Eddie, we’re on our way._ ”

Eddie’s hands touch his face, then his neck. “Good,” he says. “Buck’s freezing.”

“ _Keep him warm,_ ” Bobby barks into the radio. “ _Don’t let him sleep._ ”

“I know, I know,” Eddie says, and he’s stripping out of his own turnout coat to put over Buck’s body.

“ _Any updates?_ ”

“He’s still a thirteen on the coma scale.” Eddie actually rests, now, sits on Buck’s hips in a way that Buck wishes they could do elsewhere – like, in bed, and not here, with his whole body radiating pain. “Pupils are reacting evenly to light. He’s cold, and he’s pale, but that’s all for now.”

“Hey, look,” Buck says.

Eddie turns. There’s a med kit being lowered into their little cavern. “Perfect,” he breathes. “Good timing, guys.”

“ _We’re going to work on making this hole bigger, Eddie._ ” Eddie’s grabbing the med kit before it can hit Buck. “ _Stabilize his arm and get some pain relief into him if you can. We’ll send down a litter. If anything starts to move in there, let us know._ ”

“Roger,” Eddie says, already ripping into the med kit. “Alright. I’m gonna try not to move you too much, okay? If you start feeling worse, you have to tell me.”

“I will,” Buck says. “Hey, thanks for staying with me.” He winces. “Not… that you can go anywhere else. But I’m sort of glad you’re here.”

“You did get trapped with the ex-army medic,” Eddie reasons, folding a bandage into a sling shape. “There are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Chim would lecture me about pop culture,” Buck says, and laughs a little.

“ _Hey!_ ” Chimney’s voice comes through the radio. “ _I heard that!_ ”

“Ow,” Buck protests when Eddie gets the sling around him.

“Lo siento por eso,” Eddie says softly, and gives his hand a quick squeeze.

“Siento,” Buck murmurs back. “That’s… sorry?”

His pocket vibrates. “Would you like to hear the English translation for siento?”

Eddie sighs. “No,” he says, and Hildy falls silent. “It means sorry. I was saying sorry.”

Buck mulls that over while Eddie wedges a bandage between his arm and chest. Shock must really be settling in, because the pain is getting further away – or maybe he’s just getting used to it. “So before,” he says. “You said – uh, you said lo siento, cariño. And then something else.”

“I said I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Eddie says, and Buck could swear he’s blushing. “Tilt your head forward.”

He does, and Eddie loops the sling around his neck. “No,” Buck says. “No, because – lo siento, that’s sorry, or – or maybe I’m sorry? And I know cariño. That’s sweetheart.” He smiles when Eddie leans back. “You called me sweetheart.”

“ _Oh, wow,_ ” Hen’s voice says.

“ _You guys know you’re on an open transmitter, right?_ ” Chim asks.

“We are?” Buck asks.

“Yes, we are,” Eddie says patiently. “Hen, what’s the dosage on this?”

“ _You’ve got five milligrams of morphine in there, Eddie. There’s another if he needs more before we can get to you guys._ ”

“Copy that.” Eddie climbs off him slowly, goes to one side. “Alright, I’m gonna have to take something off here – this isn’t going to go through your turnout gear.” He surveys Buck for a moment. “Thigh,” he decides.

“What?” Buck shifts – Eddie’s hands are on the fly of his turnout pants. “Hey!” he squawks. “What do you think I am, your prom date?”

“ _Is this where we call HR?_ ” Chim’s voice crackles over the radio.

“ _Let Eddie work, guys._ ” But Bobby sounds amused. “ _Eddie? You okay down there?_ ”

“Other than Buck thinking he’s been crowned prom queen? Sure.” He’s got Buck’s fly open, and he’s easing down the waist of the pants, trying to avoid jostling him.

“ _He sounds better,_ ” Bobby says.

“Yeah, he hasn’t been moving – think the pain has gotten better for him.” Eddie’s free hand touches his neck. “Still cool to the touch. Could be shock, could just be that it’s cold in here.”

“You owe me dinner for this,” Buck mutters. Eddie’s got the waist of his pants down enough to expose his boxers, and now he’s dragging those down as well.

“There are three restaurants in your area with available dinner reservations,” Hildy chimes in helpfully. “Would you like me to make a reservation?”

“I’m getting you an old-school phone,” Eddie says. “Hold your pants down.”

Chimney, on the open channel, makes a choking noise. “ _Eddie,_ ” he says, “ _if I have to go home to Maddie and explain that you defiled her little brother, I swear_ -”

“I’m giving him a morphine injection!” Eddie rages. “Is the entire universe conspiring to get us to hook up or something?”

“Just Hildy and Chim,” Buck says, using his good hand to hold his pants and boxers down, around the thigh.

“ _And me. Also, the defiling ship sailed and hit the iceberg a while ago,_ ” Hen says.

“ _Okay, guys, let Eddie work. We can talk about Buck’s sexual history later._ ”

“Excuse me?” Buck demands.

“Going off open channel for this, Cap,” Eddie says, and clicks the radio off. He turns to Buck, then reaches out – touches the side of his face, his hairline, where his skin feels tacky with blood. His eyes are soft in the dim light, concerned.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” Buck replies.

“How’s the pain?”

His eyes well up abruptly - he even feels his lower lip wobble. He was doing fine with the bantering, but being genuinely asked now is almost too much to take – he’s in pain, sure, but what’s really making him teary is the open worry on Eddie’s face.

“It’s okay,” he croaks. “You were right. Once I stopped moving, it – it feels better.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s hand flips – the back of it presses against his cheek. “You’re still frozen. Are you tired? Numb?”

“A little tired.” He shifts. “Not numb. I think I’m shaking.”

“Yeah, you are.” Eddie adjusts his turnout coat. “I’m gonna give you this injection, okay? Straight into your thigh. Should start to work in ten minutes or so. You know the drill – we’re staring off with five milligrams, and if you’re not getting relief from that, we’ll up it to ten before lifting you out of here.”

He appreciates knowing what’s going on, especially where his own health is concerned. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds good.”

“Good. Now-” Eddie moves his good hand to his pants, and Buck bunches his fingers around them and his boxers. “Hold your pants down for me so I can get this into you.”

“You still owe me dinner,” Buck says, but he complies. The needle stings – they always do – and Eddie takes a moment to put it down carefully before rubbing the spot on Buck’s thigh gently. Is that medically necessary? He’s not sure.

“Thank you,” he says.

He sees Eddie smile – his pointy canine teeth on display and all. “Don’t need to thank me,” he says, but he looks pleased. “Let that work. They sent down some water – reckon you can drink some?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie helps him rinse his mouth out, then drink some of the water. A few minutes pass, and Buck’s arm begins to stop throbbing slowly.

Eddie clicks the radio. “Back on your channel, Cap,” he says quietly.

“ _Good to hear from you, Eddie. How’s he doing?_ ”

“Morphine seems like it’s working, and he’s had some water.” Eddie flashes the torch in his eyes; Buck winces. “Normal reaction to light. And no… I haven’t defiled him.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Buck says groggily. He tugs on the leg of Eddie’s pants – he can’t reach his t-shirt from this angle. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. Think a few rocks landed on me, but I’m fine.” Eddie turns back to the med kit. “I’m gonna clean up this cut on your head.”

“Okay,” Buck says breezily. It’s not that he can’t feel the pain – he just doesn’t care. He’s had morphine before, but the doses were always big enough to leave him high. This has just – made him more comfortable than he was.

His head stings a little when Eddie dabs at it with antiseptic. Buck sighs, keeps his eyes open, and lets his hand rest on Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie pauses. Buck’s about to shift his hand – and then Eddie goes right back to what he was doing. “How’s it feel now?” he asks.

“Better. Much better.” Buck blinks at him. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re kneeling in my puke.”

“That’s disgusting, Buck,” Eddie says lightly.

~*~

He jerks awake with a gasp.

“Whoa,” a voice nearby says, and there’s movement – a hand on his shoulder, another on his arm. “Whoa, Buck, easy.”

He opens his eyes. The room spins for a moment, and when it settles, the first thing he sees is a bunch of flowers. He squints at them, trying to work out if they’re real, then gives up, lets his head fall back against the pillow.

“You good?”

He turns his head. Eddie’s standing next to him, his hand on Buck’s shoulder. His thumb is a pinprick of warmth against Buck’s chest – it’s slipped under his shirt.

“Where am I?” he asks dumbly. “Fuck, it’s freezing.”

“Hospital.” Eddie stays where he is – he starts fussing with the blankets draped over Buck’s body, pulls them up further on his torso. “What do you remember?”

He scans his memory. It comes back easily enough – cave in, waking up, broken collarbone. He was in shock. He vaguely remembers being tied to a litter by Eddie and lifted out on a pulley system, but everything after that is fuzzy.

“My collarbone is broken,” he says.

“Yep.” Eddie still hasn’t sat down. “Anything else?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t really remember anything after…”

After he’d told Eddie that the other man was kneeling in his puke. He groans, covers his eyes with his good hand, feeling a blush seep into his face.

“You were sitting in my puke,” he mumbles. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, pressing his thumb into Buck gently. “You were sick because you were in pain. Not your fault. And you’re the one who spotted the hole in the rubble and thought to flash a torch so the others could find us.” He sits; Buck feels oddly bereft without Eddie’s hand on him. “Are you in pain?”

Buck assesses. “No,” he says honestly.

“I’ve never seen you wake up like that,” Eddie notes. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I…” He thinks back. “I was having a nightmare about Hildy,” he says bemusedly. “She was reading me the Google definition of defilement.”

As if on cue, his phone chirps to life. “Hello, Buck,” Hildy says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Throw it _out,_ ” Buck moans, sinking deeper into the bed.

Eddie grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

~*~

Other than his broken collarbone, there’s nothing medically wrong with him, so he’s discharged later in the day.

“Surprised you even got a bed with all the COVID patients,” Eddie says. He’s wearing a face mask, and he’s taken pity on Buck – helped him dress into sweats and a t-shirt and is now looping a face mask around his ears.

“Not like they could ship me off while I was drugged out of my mind,” Buck says, wincing as Eddie adjusts the sling around his neck. “You got me clothes?”

“Maddie brought them by. You only just missed her.” Eddie holds up a pair of destroyed, knock-off Ugg boots. They’re possibly the comfiest thing Buck owns. “I’m burning these.”

“You should get some,” Buck says, putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to balance as he tugs one on, then the other. “I got them when I was living in Peru. They’re fucking amazing.”

“Why do you need Ugg boots in Peru?” Eddie asks, mystified.

“Hey, it can get cold there,” Buck argues. He straightens up – he must still be a tiny bit drugged, because he’s not in any pain at the moment. “I used to wear them to beach parties.”

“You wore Ugg boots to-? Okay, never mind. Come on. I’ve got your discharge papers. Let’s get out of here.” Eddie guides him out with a hand on his back. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re weaving.”

“I’m hungry,” Buck complains.

“Well, the last time you ate was lunch before the building came down on us,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “Then you threw up, and you haven’t had anything except water since. We can stop and get something if you want?”

“That’d be great.”

Nobody stops them on the way out of the hospital, which he’s grateful for, and Eddie’s truck is parked near the entrance. He boosts himself into the seat – a little light-headed, truthfully – and sighs as he relaxes back.

“Ready?” Eddie asks as he dumps his things in the center console.

“Ready,” Buck affirms.

“Where do you want to go?” Eddie pulls out of the parking lot gently – he’s driving carefully, probably mindful of Buck’s collarbone. “Home? Or food?”

“Um – Maddie’s?” Buck asks sheepishly. “She left me a bunch of messages, I think she’s worried.”

“No problem.” Eddie watches, amused, as Buck punches in the address with one hand. “At least it was your left arm.”

“Tell me about it.”

Maddie’s place isn’t far from the hospital, and it doesn’t take them long to get there. Eddie’s bought him a sandwich from the hospital cafeteria to perk him up a little on the way, so by the time they get there, he’s just mildly sore and a little overheated in his not-Ugg boots.

“How’s the pain?” Eddie asks when Buck manages to roll out of the car.

He pulls a face. “It’s fine. Little sore.”

“I’ve got your painkillers in the glovebox. Let me know if you need them.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Eddie looks like he’d like to smack Buck over the back of the head, but he doesn’t. They walk up to Maddie’s apartment – Buck wants to stay side by side, but Eddie’s staying a step below him, like he’s worried Buck will fall.

“It’s my arm,” he points out. “Not my legs.”

“You looked drunk leaving the hospital, Buck. Don’t think I didn’t notice you were light-headed.”

“I had food,” he argues, and knocks with his good hand.

The door swings open after a moment, and Chimney is on the other side. He grins when he sees Buck standing there.

“Hey, Buckaroo! Didn’t realise you’d get released this soon.”

“I’m disgustingly healthy,” Buck says as Chim stands back to let them enter. “Where’s Maddie?”

She enters the room right as he asks the question, and her face pulls into the same expression it always does when he’s injured – one of worry, and also of vague exasperation upon seeing he’s fine. “Buck,” she sighs, and pulls him in for a hug.

It’s a little awkward between his arm and her belly, but they manage it – Buck has to bend over but he revels in her stroking through the short hairs at the back of his head. No matter how shitty he feels or how much pain he’s in, it always feels better when he sees Maddie.

“Thanks for bringing me clothes,” he says when he pulls away. “Eddie said he’s going to burn my shoes.”

“You can’t burn those,” she says indignantly. “He wore them all over Peru.”

Eddie throws his hands up and walks into the kitchen to help Chim with lunch. Maddie smiles at him, puts a hand on his good arm.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. I didn’t need pins or surgery or anything – well. According to Eddie anyway. I was unconscious for those discussions.”

“Yeah.” Her mouth curls into a little smile. “He stayed with you the whole time.”

“The whole time?” Buck asks. “Like-”

“Like he rode with you in the ambulance and went with you to all your x-rays,” she says, amused. “He might’ve been sleeping with his hand on your arm when I dropped your clothes off.”

Buck’s face flames. “Maddie-”

“Also, Chim mentioned something about defilement?”

“Chim!” Buck yells.

~*~

“You can’t burn his ugg boots just because they make him – what was that word you used-?”

“Don’t say it!”

“Adorable. That was the word.”

“Maddie, seriously. It was bad enough I had to just about sit on him to fucking triage him when the building came down on us. Then I had to pull his pants down to give him morphine-”

“Okay! I do not need to hear anything about what happens below my baby brother’s waist!”

“And now he’s all-” A frustrated noise. “Look at him!”

“I can see him, Eddie.”

“The Uggs have to go. That’s it. End of.”

“Eddie, those boots look like they’ve been through ten tours of duty. There is nothing cute about them. I agree with burning them, but-”

“He looks _snuggly!_ ” Eddie hisses. “What the fuck am I supposed to do about that?”

Buck opens his eyes blearily. He’s lying on Maddie’s couch, one foot on the ground and the other stretched out over the arm. Someone’s tossed a blanket over him, and there’s a pillow wedged under his head.

His shoulder is throbbing. That’s when he remembers it’s broken.

“Oww,” he mumbles, twisting his body so both feet are on the ground.

The voices in the kitchen stop. Buck manages to get himself vertical – his shoulder throbs again, a warning to take his pain pills before it gets out of hand. He shuffles into the kitchen, using his good hand to rub at his face.

“Hey.” Maddie’s smiling at him – it looks a little evil. “You’re up.”

“Mhm,” Buck mumbles. “Eddie, uh – can I have the keys?” He gestures at the door. “I’m just gonna go get my painkillers,” he explains awkwardly.

The smile on Maddie’s face drops instantly, and the neon-pink blush Eddie’s sporting also fades. “Stay here,” he says. “I’ll go get them.”

He’s out the door before Buck can protest. He looks at Maddie questioningly.

“You’re driving him nuts,” she explains, pushing a glass of water towards him.

He sits down, drinks slowly. “Why?” he asks. “I mean I haven’t – I haven’t done anything other than…” He sighs. “Be a nuisance, I guess.”

“You’re not a nuisance for being hurt, Buck,” she chides him. “He’s struggling with his feelings.”

Buck blinks stupidly. His brain feels like it’s been dunked in molasses. “Huh?”

“Oh my – he thinks you’re adorable, Buck.”

“I’m an adult,” Buck says. “I weigh over two hundred pounds. I’m not fucking adorable.”

“Tell Eddie that.”

Buck backs up a little bit. “Wait,” he says. “Did you just say Eddie thinks I’m adorable?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Maddie says. “Oh my God, Buck, you are not this dense. Eddie waited the whole time with you at the hospital, he waited on you hand and foot when you had a cold, he’s always the first person there when you’re in trouble. He’s driving you around and I’m pretty sure he’s intending to take you back to his house instead of your apartment because he’s worried about the stairs. Tell me you’re putting all this together?”

He is, but it sounds too good to be true. It usually is where he’s concerned.

~*~

“You okay?”

Buck shuts the car door, yawning. “I’m okay.”

“You slept the whole way back.”

“I was sleepy.” He looks up at Eddie’s house – the lights are on. “Uh, Eddie-”

“Don’t freak,” Eddie says, taking Buck’s duffel bag and following him up the steps. “Abuela found out you were in hospital. I think she’s planning on feeding you until you explode.”

“How did she-?”

Eddie’s shaking his head. “I was too afraid to ask.”

Sure enough, Eddie’s abuela is inside, and sure enough, she’s cooked enough to feed the entire 118 a week. Buck eats as much as he can, and Eddie eventually sees Isabel off – saying Buck needs to rest.

“I don’t need to rest,” Buck says. “I’ve been sleeping all day.”

“Yeah, but did you really want her to offer to help you shower?”

Buck makes a face.

“Thought so.” Eddie takes his plate from him. “Do you want to shower, or is your shoulder too sore?”

Buck shakes his head. “Painkillers are working great. I can shower if you can help me get out of my shirt.”

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, I think we can manage that.”

It’s still a mission, though. Eddie stands still while Buck puts his good hand on his shoulder, kicks his not-Uggs off, then wriggles awkwardly out of his sweats.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs. “If it hurts, you’ll tell me?”

Buck nods. He’s watching Eddie’s face, distracted by the softness he sees in the other man’s face – in his eyes, which track critically over the mess of bruising on Buck’s collarbone. He knows Eddie’s beating himself up for not being able to prevent at least some of the injury, which is dumb, because it’s the building’s fault, not his.

“Alright,” Eddie says. “Let’s – uh, let’s get your right arm out. Then the left.”

It’s an awkward process. Buck shimmies his right arm out of the sleeve of his shirt – which is thankfully one of the baggier ones he owns – and tries not to wince as Eddie takes the sling off him. He moves Buck’s arm until his left hand is on his right shoulder.

“This is the least sexy way someone’s ever undressed me,” Buck says.

“I’ll work on the execution next time.” Eddie starts peeling the shirt over his head, then slides the remaining sleeve off his left arm. “Aha. There it is. Now we know how to do it next time.”

“Ahh, waiting for a next time, are you?” Buck teases, and he marvels at Eddie’s blush in the aftermath.

“Like you’re gonna master this on your own,” Eddie says. “Are you okay like that?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything.”

Buck salutes as he leans in to turn the shower on, then steps out of his boxers awkwardly. He’s just stepped under the spray when he does think of something.

“Eddie?” he calls.

Eddie’s back in two seconds flat. “You okay?”

He laughs. “I’m fine. Just – don’t burn my Ugg boots while I’m in the shower?”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles.

Buck smiles. He washes his hair with Chris’s shampoo, because it comes in a pump bottle that he can actually use one-handed, and then soaps himself down. The water does wonders for him, and by the time he’s stepping out, he feels a lot more human than he did when he woke up.

Eddie’s left him fresh clothes. Buck steps into his boxers and wriggles them on with way more difficulty than he’s used to – even his broken leg wasn’t this hard to navigate – and then into a pair of baggy grey sweats. He eyes off the shirt – it’s loose, but there’s no way he can do it on his own. He’s not supposed to use his arm until two days from now.

Eddie knocks. Buck opens the door, and Eddie sighs when he sees him standing there, hair dripping, smiling sheepishly.

“Alright. Let’s get your shirt on… and hair dry.”

Getting the shirt on is more of an effort than taking it off, and the painkiller Buck took after lunch is wearing off. Still, he gets into his shirt and sling and begrudgingly lets Eddie towel his hair dry – mainly because he’s too tired to do it himself – and then follows Eddie out into the kitchen.

“You smell like Chris’s shampoo,” Eddie notes, throwing the towel in the laundry.

“It’s the only thing I could use one-handed,” Buck admits. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you more-”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Eddie, you’ve been driving me around all day, you stayed with me at the hospital, you’re letting me stay here, you’re helping me change – I think I can buy you some new kid’s shampoo.”

Eddie sets his pain pill out in front of him. He takes it and knocks it back with water, wishing he could drink beer instead.

“Maybe,” Eddie says finally. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Sure.”

Eddie sighs and rubs his face. “When we were at Maddie’s,” he says. “When you came into the kitchen after having a nap? Did you… hear what we were talking about?”

Buck hesitates, but it wouldn’t be fair to Eddie to lie. So he nods.

“Fuck.” Eddie rubs his face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been talking about you like that-”

“I am pretty good at snuggling,” Buck interjects. “I don’t blame you for noticing.”

Eddie smiles. His eyes are back to looking soft and warm the way they did in the rubble, and when he helped Buck undress for his shower. “Yeah?” he asks. “Do you think you’d be good at it with that arm?”

Buck shrugs his good shoulder. “Never tried,” he says, “but I’d be willing to put it to the test.”

~*~

He wakes up groggy, sore, and overheated on one side.

He shifts. The room is dark, and his shoulder is aching horribly – he’s slept long enough for his pain medication to wear off.

His phone vibrates somewhere nearby. “Call from Maddie,” Hildy’s voice says into the silence. “Would you like to answer?”

“Answer,” Buck says thickly. His face is pillowed on something decidedly not pillow like.

“Buck?” Maddie’s voice comes.

“Hi, Maddie.” Buck’s eyes are adjusting to the darkness. He’s starting to realise that his pillow doesn’t feel like a pillow because it isn’t – when he tilts his neck, his head bumps against a chin, and he sees the broad expanse of Eddie’s shoulder.

His heart almost stops. He fell asleep. On Eddie. Jesus christ.

“Are you feeling better?” Maddie asks. “How’s the arm?”

“Arm’s great,” Buck says, which is a lie – he’s sleeping with his good side on Eddie, sprawled out between the other man’s legs, and his bad shoulder is pointing up at the ceiling, throbbing horribly.

He can almost hear her smiling. “And did you talk about things with Eddie?”

He lets his good hand wander, finds a sliver of skin between Eddie’s t-shirt and sweatpants. Eddie sighs, and his skin ripples with Buck’s touch – something that’s very happy to see him pokes Buck in the stomach area.

“You could say that,” he says.

“Buck!” Maddie says – squeals, almost.

“Bye, Maddie,” he says hurriedly, and the screen goes dark.

He lies there for a moment, debating on what to do. His shoulder is killing him – painkillers seem like the best idea right now.

Eddie’s arm, around his waist, squeezes him gently. “So Maddie put you up to this,” he rasps, but he sounds affectionate.

“You did this to yourself,” Buck says, unsure of what ground he’s currently on – until Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and adjusts him, lessening some of the pain in his shoulder.

“Hmm,” Eddie sighs, clutching him closer. “Well, maybe. But Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Leave Hildy out of it.”


End file.
